3:19 p.m. - 2009-11-26
The squished cat was stuffed with cheese post-mortem
In one of my most recent entries, possibly my last entry, I made grandoise claims of consistent writing given my unemployed status. I feel like that was false advertisement since in the three weeks that I've been off of work now, this may only be my second entry. For this, I feel ashamed - like I'm loonie-liar. However, I have been keeping busy, and I shall use this as my excuse. In fact, this entry will be a true testament to how busy I've been. You'll see...
Since I've been home on a regular basis, I have quickly sealed my position as 'favourite human' to our kitty, Bella. I can hardly sit down before this (sometimes) adorable little ball of fur is all cuddled up in my lap and purring her content. Now, to give you a brief glimpse of our family dynamic here at chez Loonie, a couple years ago in the middle of the night, the cat was sleeping on our bed with us, resting comfortably ontop of the duvet. I awoke at some unholy hour and was pissed to find that Ryan had been hogging the duvet - so I reefed on it, expecting my strength at that hour would be minimal, thus explaining the excessive force to get my share of the blankets. (and I'll admit, also as a way to release my frustration at Ryan for hogging the blanket). Well, I didn't realize that the kitty was on the blanket, and when I reefed on it, she kind of, well...she flew. I think she hit the closet door or something - needless to say it was a rude awakening for her, but fortunately for me, she seemed to think it was Ryan's fault and remained mad at him for a year or so. I seem to not be able to do any wrong by our little feline, as last week she came to cuddle up right beside me. I got up moments later to wash up the few remaining dishes in the sink, and when I came back to claim my original spot, I didn't see the cat, so I just sat down. What I was not aware of however, was that in the absence of my body-heat, she opted to climb under the couch blanket - the very one I was sitting on. I kept feeling this odd sensation at the top of my butt, and to be brutally honest, since I had had some greens earlier that day, I thought it was gas that had unintentionally escaped and was trying to get out of the sweat pants. So I'm sitting there, occassionally reaching back and feeling the top of my butt (over the pants) thinking "what the hell?!" - before I realize that the blanket is moving. I sit forward immediately and find that I was ACCIDENTALLY sitting on the cats head. Oops. Now, before you go calling PITA or Animal Control or anything like that, the cat was/is fine, and in fact I think that even though I was the one who sat on her, she thought I was her 'knight in shining armour' so-to-speak and saved her from suffocating - so I'm the hero!
In an effort to make up for my lack-of-consistancy, I will continue with another embarrassing story - we will call it "the onion boob".
A few days ago I made my famous spaghetti sauce - lots of effort goes into this thing, and there's enough made in one batch to feed a football team - for a week. Lots of chopping, dicing, grating (and grazing), etc...and I'm normally pretty good about keeping the food and the food scraps confined to the kitchen counter, garbage, or even the kitchen floor. This time however, a piece unknowingly got away from me. Or rather, it attached itself to me in a place where it thought it would be safe and cozy - my cleavage. How I got it in there, and why I didn't feel it go in, I'm not entirely sure. The whole situation is a little baffling to me actually because I wasn't wearing a super low-cut shirt - I mean, no cleavage could be seen unless you are 7 feet tall and looking over my shoulder. Additionally, I was wearing an apron during the whole prep-process which went even higher than my shirt. So if I didn't know it got in there, how'd I find it? Well a few hours later when I went to go take a shower, I got undressed (naturally). It didn't expose itself at this point like you would be assuming. Instead, it had wedged itself UNDER my right boob, and didn't fall out until I reached back to take my hair out of the ponytail. So after discovering the renegade onion on the floor, I stood there for a minute trying to figure out how it got there, and that's when I realized that I'm a 25 year old woman who can hide onions (and presumabely other vegetables) under her boobs. This came as a startling revelation to me. I instantly thought of the "pencil test" - you know, where you put pencils under your boobs, and if they stay your boobs are too saggy? I contest this notion, as it implies I have saggy boobs. I assure you, I do not - but unless they're fake and implanted so they hover just below your collarbones, once boobs get to a certain size, it's perfectly natural for one to be able to store things under them. Some may refer to their rack as a "shelf" - mine apparently are the equivalent to a vegetable crisper.
A few interesting things Ryan and I have seen on the drive to and from our hometown recently:
A bright red dodge ram with a "bumper sticker" of sorts that reads:
Dodge the father,
Ram the daughter.
Speaking of all things classy - out in the boonies there's a sign for a small business that reads "Cheese and Taxidermy". This opened up a discussion with Ryan and I, as follows:
Me: Oh my god - did you just see that sign?!
Ryan: The one for the "Cheese & Taxidermy"?
Me: That's fucked up. Do you think they mean they sell cheese, but they also have taxidermy services as a side business? Or do you think they've combined their love for cheese and stuffing dead animals?
Ryan: I bet they stuff animals with cheese. Probably a mozarella or brie for the squishy parts.
Me: Oh, and then a harder cheese, maybe gouda for the 'tougher' parts.
Ryan: That would probably start to smell pretty bad after a while.
Me: That would probably smell pretty bad right from the start. That is just not a good idea. These boonie-folk are CRAZY!
From there, the discussion moved to what we're going to name our unborn children. I sincerely hope the two topics are completely unrelated, and not foreshadowing any of our future children growing up to become cheese-oriented taxidermists.
To be fair, I have a little more to add, but I'm feeling pretty lazy - so maybe I'll get around to it tomorrow. I make no promises though, because as we have seen, my unemployed status is not a positive indicator for my ability to write consistantly.
Oh, oops. In hindsight, this entry was supposed to help convey how busy I've been as a way to justify my absence from the diaryland world. If you don't think that saving the cats life, spending hours slaving in the kitchen and having a formal discussion on the ethics and processes of local business owners is busy, then...then...well, screw you douche canoe! Muahahahaha!
